Otto von Fenrir
A Truth about Teeth What is interesting about a baby? Stories that I have heard dance quickly over the passage from newborn to infant and infant to child, even a totally significant event, a kidnapping or a curse from a demonic homunculus, is the quick waltz of the ballad. I believe this is because babies are too lazy and lack the commitment required to be a good Hero. All except me. I was a very interesting baby. My story begins on a fucking windy night under Spring stars and a beautiful full moon. The lunar 'Running of the Wolves' ritual is almost at an end with most of the strength for our house being exctracted from the blood of its people. Occasionally the weaker wolves meet an end in the streets aswell, not so much an omen as it is a grounding excercise for predatory underlings of my family. It is a dark and stormy night, and Asena gives me life! So begins my hunt. I caught my first prey when I was two months old. A rare glimpse of sun shone on the Trelleborg, the rest of my pack were up to one of their frolick sessions, and my mother was in the next room. I must admit that it took me by suprise to notice that I wasn't alone anymore. I could understand that it had made it past the others, but it had also managed to penetrate, to some extent, my ultra-keen senses; I had clearly met a worthy adversary. It was two feet from me when I first spied the vicious visage of my foe. I stared at it for a long moment, a moment that I felt was shared between us. We were destined to clash, but I couldn't help wonder what it would be like if we'd met under different circumstances; if we could have met well, or never at all. Neither of us had mattered to one another until now. Which stars crossed to bring such giants together to brawl at the whims of gods?! To take the big fish out of it's pond and put it in another. To take the alpha out of it's domain and put it in anothers. This was my domain! I had a depiction of the humiliating domination of my prey painted on my chamber pot; how I bore down and took it in my vice grip and put it right in my mouth. I wanted to make its demise as quick as possible, out of respect for my rival, but I lacked the teeth required to adequately put it out of its misery. Nevertheless, I bit down as hard as I could, I ended it and it was over and I had triumphed. Little did I know that my prey was actually a carved piece of wood in the shape of a giant tooth, more like a fang. Very vicious though. My Uncle had made the trinket for me to suck on, to encourage my own undeveloped teeth to come through big and strong. It worked. Two weeks later my canines came through, the biggest baby teeth ever seen.